


Camaraderie

by bipolarweeb



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Complete, F/M, One Shot, Rewrite, no beta we die like men, when are they not angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-27
Updated: 2020-06-27
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24941383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bipolarweeb/pseuds/bipolarweeb
Summary: Post-Promised Day. While recovering in the hospital, Roy and Riza have a chat about feelings, leaving their military titles at the door
Relationships: Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang, Riza Hawkeye/Roy Mustang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Camaraderie

**Author's Note:**

> Aaahhhh so this was supposed to be a rewrite of a fluffy oneshot I wrote like four years ago but it decided to take a bit of an angsty turn. I hope you enjoy anyway! 
> 
> Follow me on tumblr @bipolarweeb!

Riza watches her superior from the doorway of their shared hospital room. 

His face is wrinkled in frustration, unseeing eyes unfocused, as he stands next to his bed and attempts to put on his dress blues. He groans in annoyance when he realizes he, once again, has put his arm in the wrong sleeve of the military issued coat. He impatiently tugs it off to try again.

Riza shakes her head, a small, somber smile on her lips at the way he’s trying to put a formal military coat over hospital clothes. His unwavering determination is admirable and so like him, but she knows he’s thinking _it shouldn’t be this difficult._

When he manages to get his arms through both sleeves, not realizing the coat is upside down, she let’s out a silent laugh through her nose before deciding to finally step in and help him. 

He swiftly jerks his head in her direction at the sound of her approaching footsteps on the hard tile floor. 

“Who is it?” he asks instantly, his unseeing eyes hardening to stone.

“It’s just me, sir,” she tells him gently.

Immediately the tension in him drains. His shoulders slump and he huffs out a loud breath. She knew he was frustrated before, but she didn’t realize just how tightly wound up he’d been just trying to put on a coat. 

“Lieutenant,” he sighs out in acknowledgement, reaching to fasten buttons he ultimately wouldn’t find. 

“It’s upside down, sir,” Riza tells him, chuckling good-naturedly as she tugs on the abundance of fabric pooling around his shoulders. 

Roy lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. He pushes the coat from his shoulders before placing it on the chair behind him.

“I thought something didn’t feel right,” he replies, a soft smile on his face. 

He sighs, pausing for a moment. “Who would’ve thought something so easy would be this hard,” he says, his smile fading as he runs a bandaged hand though his bed-tousled har. 

As if to punctuate his words, the coat decides then to fall from the chair in a thud of heavy fabric. 

Roy deflates even more and it’s clear he’s exhausted from his previous effort of wrestling with the offending piece of clothing. 

He mutters a bitter “Of course,” before reaching for the coat and missing it by several inches. 

As he curses quietly and reaches again, Riza nudges his hand away and pushes him toward the hospital bed. 

“Wh-“

“Leave it,” she orders, and he lets out a noise of annoyance, but is apparently too tired to resist. “I’ll get it.”

He sits down on the bed, closing his eyes and resting a hand on his forehead. He sits there for a few moments before he starts rubbing circles over his eyelids.

“You’re obviously exhausted,” Riza chastises him gently before picking up the jacket and laying it beside him on the bed. She notices his hand immediately go to smooth over the fabric.

She presses her lips together. “Whatever you were going to do can wait. No one is expecting you to be in uniform right now. You need to rest, Colonel.”

He squints up at her words. “Well what about you?” he inquires, affronted. “What were you doing out and about?”

She tries not to roll her eyes at his childish inflection. 

He lets out a breath and softens his tone. “I woke up and you weren’t in here. You know you shouldn’t push yourself too hard, Hawkeye. You haven’t fully recovered either.”

She bites her lip before deciding sitting next to him on the bed should be okay; no one should be checking on them anytime soon.

“I was just on the phone with Breda. He says Dr. Marcoh should be here in about an hour,” she pauses. “Why were you trying to get into uniform, sir? Where do you need to go?”

He grumbles for a moment under his breath, seemingly irritated, but when he speaks up his voice is soft. 

“I feel a little less useless when I’m wearing it,” he tells her, turning away from the sound of her voice as he runs his fingers along the blue coat between them. 

She feels her chest constrict at his wistful words. She certainly understands. She also feels much more vulnerable when not in uniform, but that doesn’t mean they’re useless. And it’s not going to stop her from making sure he doesn’t re-injure himself.

Involuntarily her hand creeps closer to where his hand has stilled on the coat. 

“You’re not useless, sir.” she reiterates her thoughts softly. “You just need time to recuperate so you don’t injure yourself further.”

He shakes his head before shrugging, defeated. “Maybe that’s true. I just feel a little bit more like a Colonel with it near me.” 

He looks up at her as he continues, “And uniform or no, I just need to get out of this god-forsaken hospital room. I feel like I’m about to lose my mind,” he huffs, and after a moment makes a move to stand back up.

She grabs his forearm, effectively pulling him back down onto the mattress.

“I understand, sir. And I realize you’re going stir-crazy, but you shouldn’t worry yourself too much. There are more important things to worry about. Your _health_ being number one,” she emphasizes, squeezing his arm.

“I’m _fine_ ,” he stresses, and pulls his arm from her gentle grip in another attempt to stand up.

He tries to pick up the coat from beside him, taking a few steps forward as he swings it around his body in a way he thought would allow him to shove his arms through the sleeves. Instead he loses his balance when it smacks him in the face.

Riza quickly stands up and wraps both hands around either of his biceps to steady him. He grabs at her blindly until he finds her shoulders. His fingers dig into her shirt while he regains his footing.

Riza has to bite back a gasp when his hand comes dangerously close to the gauze packed thickly around the wound on her neck. As soon as he’s regained his balance, she reaches up to grasp his fingers and pull them away from her injury, knowing it will just make him feel worse if he accidentally hurts her.

“God,” she hears him breathe out, and she runs her thumbs along his arms in a calming manner.

He leans down to tiredly press his forehead against her shoulder, heaving out a sigh. She closes her eyes, squeezing them tightly as she tries to hide how the sudden movements made her head swim.

“Sir…” she starts quietly, blood rushing in her ears. “Please... don’t be stubborn. Now isn’t the time.”

“I know,” he grumbles, frustrated with himself. “I’m sorry.” 

He moves them both back toward the bed. “But you shouldn’t over-exert yourself either, Hawkeye. I can tell you aren’t as steady as you usually are.”

At this she sighs. Of course he would be able to tell. “I’m fine, Colonel.”

“If you’re fine, I’m fine,” he shoots back at her, and she almost laughs.

Stubborn.

“Touché,” is all she says to him, sitting them both back down on the hospital bed.

When he sits down, he leans away from her to place his head in his bandaged hands. She begins to raise her own hand to place on his shoulder, but thinks better of it and pulls away, dropping it in her lap instead. It eats her up inside knowing there isn’t much she can do to comfort him.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, “I’m just going crazy being stuck in this room. Being injured, I know I need to take a break, but that’s just not in my DNA. I can feel myself about to jump out of my skin. I need to do something. I need to see my men, the Elrics, something. I actually haven’t seen the Elrics since we were admitted,” he trails off in thought, rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand. Eventually he moves his fingers down to brush over his closed eyelids.

He sighs. “Well, not _see_ , but you know what I mean.”

She feels her heart warm as he mentions the two boys, but it wrenches when she’s reminded of the helplessness she feels knowing she can’t return his sight. 

This time she can’t keep her hands in her lap, instead placing one hand gently on his wrist before pulling his hand away from his face. She keeps it resting in her fingers, careful not to irritate the bandages on his palms. 

“Dr. Marcoh is coming soon, sir,” she reassures him, “And I’ve been keeping tabs on the boys’ progress so I can assure you they're doing fine,” she lightly squeezes his wrist for emphasis.

“What about you?” 

Riza squints at him, confused, and although he can’t see her expression he rolls his eyes and sighs.

He turns toward her voice. “I can feel you staring at me, Lieutenant,” one side of his mouth tilts up slightly in a barely-there smirk. 

She takes a deep breath. “I already told you I’m f—“

Before she can finish, he reaches out to place a steady hand on her knee, interrupting her. 

She has to look away from his intense gaze. Sight or no, he still manages to make her feel like she’s under a microscope.

“It’s only been three days, Hawkeye,” he tells her softly, “How are you feeling?”

She shakes her head at his concern, “Sir, you shouldn’t be worrying about me, you need to focus on—“

“Riza,” he cuts her off and she almost jerks back at his use of her first name. “I’m not asking as your superior officer. I’m asking as your friend. I don’t want titles right now. It’s just us, and we’re just two people. You don’t have to be so formal.” His grip on her knee tightens slightly.

Seeing the genuine worry on his face—the hard lines on his forehead, the tight clench of his jaw—she relents, if only so he’ll relax.

_No titles. Just people._

“Physically I’m... okay,” she answers softly, and interrupts him with a squeeze of his wrist when he takes in a breath to call her a liar. “I get a little dizzy from the blood loss but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Mentally... I’m drained. But I’ve been more worried about you than myself. After everything, I know these past few days haven’t been... easy for you.”

A few moments pass and his voice is hard when he finally answers, “It wasn’t your fault, so don’t you dare blame yourself.” 

His tone surprises her and she looks up to see his unseeing eyes burning holes into the side of her face. 

Though she knows he genuinely believes those words, they leave her feeling bitter. She really doesn’t want to talk about blame and accountability right now.

“That’s an order,” he states.

Riza lets out a humorless laugh and shifts away from him. “I thought we were just two friends talking here, _sir_ ,” she emphasizes cynically. 

She tries to swallow down the bitterness, knowing it will just leave her angry and irritable. She doesn’t want to take those emotions out on him.

She tries to focus on the pressure of his hand on her knee to ground herself. 

He scoots closer to her, grabbing her arm and demanding her attention. “I’m serious Riza,” he tells her in a low voice, “Nothing that happened down there was your fault, and I forbid you to think otherwise.”

Riza can feel it. After all of the pressure of the last few months, hell, of the past _year_ , she can feel herself starting to crack. The stress, the sadness, the joy in knowing they managed to live another day in a newly evolving country, and the guilt of knowing how many lives were taken in order to get to this point... it’s all overwhelming. 

Not to mention her feelings toward her superior. After everything they’d been through over the last fifteen years, she’s always had to keep a tight grip on any emotions involving him. 

Just as she knows he has for her. Or chance both of them ruining everything they’d ever worked toward. 

And knowing that breaks her heart even more. 

To her absolute horror, she can feel tears starting to pool in her eyes, and she’s relieved knowing there’s no way he can see them. 

“Of course, sir,” she concedes in the steadiest voice she can manage.

Roy lets out an exasperated breath before trailing his hand up her arm until he’s cupping the side of her face. His bandaged palm scratches at the soft skin of her cheek, but she doesn’t pull away.

“Listen to me,” he closes his eyes, “We were all dealt a shitty hand. I’m not sure what you could even blame yourself for, but I can feel the guilt rolling off you in waves. The last thing you should be doing is stressing over something you couldn’t have changed.”

Riza curses herself as tears spill onto her cheeks, but there is nothing she can do to prevent them from trickling onto Roy’s hand. 

He bites his lip and shakes his head as he feels her tears roll over his fingers. He runs his thumb over her cheek before bringing his other hand to rest over hers.

“Why are you crying, Riza?” he asks gently.

Riza lets out an unsteady breath before placing her free hand on top of where Roy’s rests on her face. She shakes her head slightly and his eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.

“Roy, if I hadn’t gotten hurt you wouldn’t be injured right now. You wouldn’t be sitting in a hospital with puncture wounds in your hands and you wouldn’t be blind,” her voice cracks a bit and she moves her hand to squeeze his arm when she sees he’s about to interrupt her.

“I keep thinking of all these what-ifs: What if they hadn’t been able to hurt me, what if I had just paid more attention to the gold-toothed doctor, what if I’d just fought harder against the men who grabbed me... The scenarios go on and on in my head like a film that doesn’t end. And I always come to the same conclusion that it was _my_ job to protect you. And I failed. That’s why you were forced to go through with the human transmutation and why you’re in the hospital right now. I let myself get hurt, I let those men get to you, and I couldn’t protect you. You can deny it, but—“

“Riza, stop,” he says sharply, and she just can’t get used to the sound of her name on his lips. “You didn’t ‘let’ them do anything. I know it may not mean much when I say this, but nothing could’ve stopped those men from getting what they wanted. We fought as hard as we could given the circumstances we were in, but one way or another it was going to happen. It was inevitable and you couldn’t have stopped them. And Riza, we may be bruised and battered, but we still _won_.”

Riza bites her lip at his words, and wills herself to believe them, although the anxiety of her self-perceived failure still tickles the back of her mind. 

He sighs when he realizes she’s going to remain silent, and catches her off-guard when he presses his forehead against hers. She’s so shocked by the intimate gesture it takes her a moment to realize he’s speaking.

“And,” he whispers, “You keep referring to my injuries as if they are more important of noting than yours.”

He lightly squeezes her hand and his thumb wipes away another tear. 

“I may have lost my sight and there may be holes in my hands but you...you almost _died_ Riza. I was convinced you were going to bleed out in my arms and I’ve never felt so afraid and helpless in my life. It’s been difficult because that’s the last time I ever _saw_ you; your eyes were so determined, but you were so weak and covered in your own blood. And I’m convinced if Mei hadn’t acted when she did, you wouldn’t be sitting with me now. You can act like your injuries don’t bother you, but I saw just how badly you were hurt. And I’ll never believe you if you say it hasn’t been difficult for you too.”

His voice cracks, and it makes her heart wrench. Again, he’s right. 

“Does it still hurt?” he asks in a whisper, and his warm breath fans over her face. She’s thankful he can’t see the blush she can feel rising on her cheeks. While they may be addressing each other as friends, it still feels highly inappropriate.

“It’s not so bad now,” she replies, her voice thick. “Mei did well, and the doctors say it’s healing just fine. I’m just a little tired from the blood loss. But sir...” she starts, and he pulls back to give her a look.

“Roy,” she begins again, trying to pick her words carefully but finding it to be challenging. “You’re right. My injury and the new limits that resulted from it have been hard to come to terms with, but... my wounds aren’t the only reason it’s been so difficult.” 

She takes in a shaky breath. Emotion takes over as she speaks again. “I-I was convinced you’d _died_. I thought you were dead... Or if you weren’t yet, wherever they sent you through the transmutation circle would kill you.”

He sucks in a breath. He presses their foreheads together once again, and she closes her eyes. 

“I told you,” he chastises lightly, “not to believe I’m dead until you see my body.”

“Roy... they put you in the transmutation circle and you disappeared. No one knew what was happening and with how things seemed to be going, I was convinced you weren’t coming back.” 

She pauses to bite her lip, and Roy lightly squeezes her hand to encourage her. 

“And when you did... I-I can’t describe the joy I felt. It was like nothing else mattered. Everybody had almost been killed, the country had almost been pulverized, I’d almost bled out on the ground, but _you_ were alive. And it felt kind of selfish.” 

She takes the hand he has on her cheek and lightly presses his fingers against her lips before returning them to her face. His breath hitches a bit, but he gives no other sign of being surprised. 

She puts her hand over his. “And in that moment I promised myself I would put all of my energy into making sure you _stay_ alive... for as long as you’ll keep me by your side.”

All of the sudden, she’s pulled against him, his arms holding her in a fierce embrace. 

”And if I want you to stay by me forever?” he asks quietly.

”Then forever.” That answer seemed obvious enough. She smiles. “But I’m sure you already knew that.”

After a moment, the weight of her own words brings a blush to her cheeks. Yes, she’d already told him when she became his subordinate she would protect him and follow anywhere—into hell if he asked—but she knew saying something like that now.... 

After fighting Envy in the tunnels; after putting a gun to her superior’s head and threatening to take both of their lives; after he held her, begging her to open her eyes as she felt herself dying; after he made the decision to trust her enough to be his eyes during battle... 

After all those things—things normal people could never even begin to fathom going through—the promise feels much more intimate. And the last promise she made to him they were both soldiers in uniform. Now...

Now they’re just people. 

He holds her tight and his voice doesn’t waver as he asks, “And that’s a promise, Riza?”

The unspoken words flow between them, but really it’s nothing they don’t already know.

“Do you even have to ask, Roy?” she replies, voice rocky with emotion.

He chuckles, releasing her a bit in order to press his lips gently against her forehead. Both of his hands come up to cradle her face.

“Riza.... I...” he starts, but she stops him, pulling back and bringing a finger up to his lips.

“I know,” she says gently, and she brings a hand up to stroke his cheek with her thumb. “You too. More than you’ll ever know.“

He smiles, sighing contently before pulling her back into his arms, resting his cheek on top of her head.

Any minute now Dr. Marcoh will be coming into the room with the philosopher’s stone to heal Roy’s eyes. Any minute now the moment between them will be broken and they would have go back to being Colonel and Lieutenant. 

But for now, the promise of forever is enough.


End file.
